Congratulations
by lady-ribbon
Summary: He quickly picks up the fallen medal his cheeks burning and the entire class roaring, Feliciano wonders how he even managed to shoot the winning goal considering he can't aim to save his life and the opposing team scares the living daylights out of him.


**Title - **Congratulations

**Summary -** He quickly picks up the fallen medal his cheeks burning and the entire class roaring, Feliciano wonders how he even managed to shoot the winning goal considering he can't aim to save his life and the opposing team scares the living daylights out of him.

**A/N **- I love GerIta so much; I don't know why I don't write them more often! This is only my second..No wait, third thing featuring them. Well, I've stopped lurking in the RoChu section so I could post this mess. By all means tell me how bad this is.

Review if you want :]

**Congratulations  
**

**s-t-u-p-i-d  
**  
It's probably what Ludwig is thinking when he looks Feliciano's way.

The super hot, super cool, super dreamy_, _super athletic Captain from the school's soccer team is_ not_ the one being awarded the "golden medal" for shooting the winning goal and beating out the opposing team in the first match of the season.

(Somewhere in the classroom Feliciano can just hear Alfred's annoyed groan and something like Kiku's comforting voice) but he's not really paying attention because Ludwig is glaring at him and he really hadn't meant to make him angry. If that blue-eyed glare wasn't bad enough, standing in front of the entire class to accept an award was.

Feliciano listens to the half-hearted applause as his grandpa -also known as Coach Vargas- tosses the medal to him with very loud congratulations on how his favorite grandson (he's forgotten Romano _again_) is finally showing some true Italian spirit.

He fails to catch the medal and it falls with a loud _clang!_ on that-guy-that-looks-like-Alfred's head in the front row.

**m-o-r-t-i-f-i-e-d **

As he quickly picks up the fallen medal his cheeks burning and the entire class roaring, Feliciano wonders how he even managed to shoot the winning goal considering he can't aim to save his life and the opposing team scares the living daylights out of him.

The medal itself wasn't even worth his bruised knees or the lumps on his head; it's just a cheap plastic piece of crap the color of cheddar-cheese and tied with a moldy pink ribbon that was horribly itchy.

But Ludwig's looking at it like it's made of gold.

**s-c-a-r-e-d**

As soon as the congratulations are over (not that he got any) Feliciano hurries back to his seat and perhaps melt out of existence in the process too. Ludwig is still glaring at him from the other side of the room while Coach Vargas rambles on and on ignoring the fact that the senior Mr. Beillschmidt is fuming at him for delaying his history class.

Feliciano really wants to hide from everyone, to never have shot that goal in the first place and Ludwig's stare is really scaring him. He can't understand why he's so upset; it's not like this is the class finals, or nationals or the _Olympics_ for crying out loud.

**u-p-s-e-t  
**  
As soon as the bell rang Feliciano shot out of the room to get away from both Ludwig and now Arthur who looked a bit too miffed to offer real congratulations. (Where was Francis when you needed him?)

Feliciano didn't stop running (at a speed which would of put him on the track-and-field team first class) until he reached the safety of the art room. No one was there and for once he liked that.  
**  
f-o-r-g-o-t**

Feliciano groaned when he realized he'd forgotten to go to his locker. Now he didn't have anything to eat and his stomach was rumbling painfully. On top of that he remembered he'd left his art-book in the classroom.

He always carried that notebook everywhere. It had occasional to-do-lists and things and a couple of stickers and what-to-eat notes, but it was filled for the most part, with sketches of Ludwig. He'd spent countless hours doodling him in every art-form possible, and didn't particularly want anyone to find out.

**s-t-a-l-k-e-r**

He sighed and reluctantly made his way out of the art room to get his lunch and notebook. He was really hoping that no one had seen his book, and if they had had left it alone. He didn't want people thinking he was a _stalker_ or anything with an unhealthy obsession (like that creepy Russian kid who stalked Kiku's older cousin.)

Feliciano shuffled unhappily down the long corridor, head bent dejectedly and looking at the rather dirty brown tiles that covered the floor. Just for fun he decided to play a game with himself and step on every other tile until he reached the classroom.

If he missed an alternating tile, he would lose and something bad would happen.

**o-u-c-h**

He yelped when he collided with something firm -another person, and caused him to fumble back two squares. Looking up, his eyes widening he saw Ludwig glaring at him again. Feliciano nervously gulped -Ludwig _was_ pretty tall after all- and muttered an apology wishing the ground would just swallow him up.

"...That was a good goal." Ludwig said nonchalantly.

Feliciano chanced a look up at his face and couldn't detect any sarcasm. Did...Did Ludwig actually just compliment him? Before he could think of something to say, Ludwig spoke again.

"...I found this on your desk. The pictures are...Nice" He said slowly, pulling out the green notebook from his schoolbag and handing it to him wordlessly.

"Um...um, t-thanks ve." Felciano managed to squeak out as he reached out shakily and grabbed the book.

No one was supposed to see it.

**e-v-e-r**

Feliciano squeezed his eyes shut and waited for Ludwig to say something or at least move away. He didn't know _why_ Ludwig had decided to go through the trouble of finding him and giving him his notebook back, and he didn't want him there anymore...

Instead, he felt a weight being lifted from his neck.

He opened his eyes and let out a yelp when he saw the cheap medal in Ludwig's hands. The ribbon was still around his neck so he couldn't move.

"U-um...Ludwig?"

"I wanted to win this." he said softly looking at the medal.

His blue eyes met Feliciano's brown ones. His look was so blue that Feliciano could feel his heart speed up and his cheeks flush warmly.  
**  
b-l-u-s-h**

"I-I'm sorry v-ve." He stuttered out stupidly.

Ludwig continued to glare at him. He couldn't understand _why_ this was such a big deal. It was just a class game that's all. Feliciano started to look away but Ludwig's hands moving swiftly to either side of his head against the locker stopped him.

Feliciano's eyes met his again and continued to melt like gelato in the sun under his icy gaze.

"I could have shot the goal." Ludwig told him, "but I let you shoot it."

Ludwig was silent for a moment. Feliciano turned even redder as he brought his hand down to the medal again and pulled Feliciano even closer to him.

"Y-you did? B-but why ve?" Feliciano wasn't understanding the slightest and it was _sorta/kinda/insanely_ hard to think when your crush was so close that you could feel his breath on your face.

Once again he was silent.

"What's a traditional part of every game that should always be done?" Ludwig commanded.

Feliciano had no clue.

"I-I don't know."

"It's the _congratulations_."

"Ah ah...Ve..I..I know." Feliciano managed to get out wondering why Ludwig was looking at him even more intently than before.

He'd probably studied every single tactical movement and rule in the game book. He'd probably spent months reading on how to play a perfect game, and how to shoot the winning goal. _That for some reason he'd let Feliciano shoot._

"Here's the congratulations I meant to give you for sometime now for doing your best." He whispered.

"B-but why-"

He finally let go of the medal and bent down towards Feliciano.  
**  
k-i-s-s**

Oh..

So _that's_ why.

_fin_

* * *

**Ribbon blah - **

I actually typed this story out on my email account on my mom's computer and revised it on fanfiction because well...My computer crashed, taking with it all my stories and chapters, and ideas...So yeah, I'm pissed. But my dad said he could fix it when he gets sometime because it's a painstaking job. I don't have a laptop because my dad works in the computer field, and we have so many computers in the house lol, that it's almost scary XD

...And yes; I'm implying AmeriPan, FrUk and RoChu in this story and no I'm not sorry ;}

I think Feliciano and his class are in either their final year of middle school or in the first year of high school.


End file.
